


In the Chasms, No One Can Hear You Scream

by azulaahai



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo, Stormlight Archive - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: M/M, Setting, Six of crows pairings but, Stormlight Archive AU, so hahah idk this is super niche and for a VERY specific audience, so if you are a jesper x wylan shipper who happens to be a stormlight fan ..., this one is for you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 19:24:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20431193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azulaahai/pseuds/azulaahai
Summary: It had all gone to damnation, and Jesper had no one to blame but himself.





	In the Chasms, No One Can Hear You Scream

It had all gone to damnation, and Jesper had no one to blame but himself.

_ He _ had lost control,  _ he _ had abandoned common sense altogether,  _ he _ had gained such a debt in brightlord Van Eck’s warcamp that not even Kaz had been able to talk him out of it,  _ he _ had done all sorts of questionable things to shrink that ever-growing debt, fill that void that kept spreading. It had only been a matter of time before someone caught Jesper, and anyone looking to have him punished would have a number of offenses to choose from. Arrest would mean him being made a bridgeman, and that in itself was a death sentence.

Jesper had been out of luck, out of spheres, out of hope and out of options. So instead of accepting his fate, ending his day on the Plains being pierced by Parshendi arrows, Jesper had chosen to do what he did best. He had run.

Going down into the chasms was, as Inej kept telling him, complete and utter madness. If a chasmfiend didn’t get him, the next highstorm surely would. But strange determination had gripped Jesper. He would do this, let his end, if it had to come, be one that roared of resistance at the way of the world and at brightlord Van Eck and at the card games that were not going his way. Into the chasms he had gone, not sure if he would ever emerge from them.

Wylan Van Eck knew what he was doing. 

He was following the man that his father’s entire war camp was after, the tall dark-eyed one that was rumored to have a debt so large the king’s own sphere pouch could not repay it. 

What Wylan did not know was  _ why _ . Was it to prove some point to his father? Was it the work of that desperate, pathetic part of Wylan’s heart that still craved his father’s recognition and approval? Or was it the danger of the mission that had enticed him? Was this fulfillment of a hidden death wish of Wylan’s, disguised as a desire to do good?

Wylan had no answer. But he kept moving through the chasms, close enough not to lose the soldier ahead of him, but, he hoped, not close enough to be noticed.

Of course Jesper knew he was being followed. Anyone would, with the below-zero level of discretion displayed by his uninvited company. But Jesper also knew  _ who _ was following him, and that was what caused him to continue, unbothered, almost intrigued, into the chasms.

It would be rather interesting to find out what a light-eyed brightlord’s son was doing shadowing a criminal in the chasms of the Plains.

Wylan thought he had been so careful. When the soldier ahead of him stopped for the night in a cave in the walls of the chasm, Wylan decided to do the same (though, naturally, in a different cave.) He had not even started the short climb up the chasm wall when a voice called out to him in the dim almost-darkness of twilight, making Wylan jump.

“Brightlord”, said a voice. The soldier’s voice, Wylan realised embarrassingly late. “Come here. Let’s have a little chat, shall we?”

Wylan didn’t think himself to be in any position to refuse. Armed only with a sword he barely knew how to use (the idea that his father would grant Wylan a Shardblade was, to anyone who knew either of them, laughable), he stepped forward.

“Up here, brightlord”, the soldier called out from the cave in the chasm wall. He had lit a fire, it seemed, the flickering light of flames echoing in the chasm. Wylan, feeling a strange mix of embarrassment and fear and a sort of perverse excitement that he found hard to explain, clumsily began climbing.

Jesper watched intently as this son of a brightlord slowly made his way into Jesper’s little refuge, the firelight making the light-eyes’ red hair glimmer in shades of sunset. The cave suddenly felt small.

“Van Eck”, Jesper said. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” The question echoed vaguely in the cave, almost a song.

“Don’t call me that.” An angry blush took hold of the boy’s cheeks as he scowled at the ground. For a second, Jesper almost thought he felt sympathy for the guy. It couldn’t have been easy, being brightlord Van Eck’s only son, and to be a disappointing one at that, if the rumors were true.

And he  _ was _ rather cute, Jesper had to confess.

“Pardon. What would you like me to call you then, brightlord?”

Jesper delighted in the blush increasing on the boy’s face.

“Wylan.”

“I’m Jesper.”

“I know.”

“You come to fetch me then?” Jesper asked, and he couldn’t quite keep the amusement out of his voice. He could probably kill this boy in his sleep, if he had to. What on earth was a sheltered brightlord’s son doing following someone like him into the chasms? “To drag me back to your father’s camp?”

Jesper took a few steps forward, then, leaving the warmth of the fire behind to properly look this lighteyes in, well, his light eyes. To his surpise, Jesper found no fear in them.

“And if I have? Come to do that, I mean?” Wylan surprised himself by asking. The soldier was close to him now, so close he might hear Wylan’s heart beating.

The soldier smiled, but it was not an unkind smile.

“I suppose I have no choice but to take you prisoner, then.”

Strangely, the soldier’s words did not scare Wylan one bit. 

Perhaps his father was right.

Perhaps Wylan truly was a fool.


End file.
